"This place where I buy from a kind of messenger, the seeds for my imagining.Here, they are wrapped in a tiny scrap of an old music manuscript. Everywhere on the streets I see the remnants of these imaginings, that is until the wind or the rain carries them away.These are of course the empty husks of sunflower seeds, sold on the streets by old women, and are staple of this whole region.I went to Georgia for the first time in 2003, not long after the so called Rose Revolution. I didn’t go because of the revolution as such, but that was the context I found myself in. I was on a journey, a dialogue with photography and story telling.

Georgia, like so many places with a sense of an ancient past, was a place that seemed to be in love with its own idea of self. It is a place where people seem comfortable in celebrating their good fortune at the lush beauty of the land, they, by chance inhabit." (Winship Vanessa)